


In All Things

by saraid



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon has taught Obi everything he needs to know. Other Padawans aren't so fortunate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In All Things

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in Living Force II

It was still dark when he awoke. Though not a morning person by nature, after his many years as Qui-Gon's padawan, Obi-Wan had adapted. He'd learned to appreciate these quiet times, often the only peaceful moments they had in a day. The refugee camp was almost silent. Even the babies were still sleeping. It wouldn't last long; nearly 200,000 Hichellans were living in the enormous tent city and more were expected to arrive today, fleeing the floods and mudslides that were ravaging the continent.

Turning under the standard issue bedding - scratchy and grey, made from recycled plant materials - Obi-Wan wasn't surprised to find his Master watching him from his own makeshift bed.

The dark blue eyes were alert and lit with the deep affection Obi-Wan had come to expect. It was his public face, the one Qui-Gon showed the world, which used affection to mask the love they shared. That was a private thing, held between the two of them and not exposed to others.

"Good morning, Master," Obi-Wan whispered. He didn't want to wake the people sleeping on either side of them. This was one of the smaller tents, with only thirty scientists, doctors, and Jedi living in it. Crowded conditions were nothing new to the Jedi, but he missed their privacy.

Obi-Wan reached one hand across the scarce distance separating them and smoothed Qui-Gon's hair back from his face, as much intimacy as he could allow himself. Qui-Gon covered the hand with his own.

"Good morning, my Padawan." A gentle smile curved thin lips. Obi-Wan had to make himself be still and resist the urge to kiss him, but nearly two years of being this man's lover had taught him both patience and discretion.

Still, they lay there for long minutes, enjoying the chance to be close.

Obi-Wan kept his eyes on Qui-Gon, wishing he could communicate everything he was feeling without words.

There was a good chance that one day he would be able to. When he achieved Knighthood, the restraints on his mental powers would be lifted. If they both wanted it, a bond could be formed then. Once again, Obi-Wan chafed at the limits the Council had placed them, denying them the right to bond until Obi-Wan achieved his Knighthood and they could come together as equals.

"We should get up," Qui-Gon said at last, his hand squeezing Obi-Wan's.

"Yes, Master." Without protest or visible reluctance, Obi-Wan climbed from the pallet. Unlike his master, he was wearing layered tunics and leggings, but it was still cold enough to make emerging from his cocoon unpleasant. He finished dressing quickly, then handed his master's folded clothes to him so Qui-Gon could dress under the covers.

"You are working with Padawan Chun again today?" Qui-Gon rose from the pallet and they stepped outside into gray pearl light where he could stretch before he began his first kata of the day. Obi-Wan knew his master generally tried to do four, but often had to settle for one or two during hectic missions. 

"Yes, Master. We've identified and registered fifty of the unclaimed children."

"The two of you are working well together?" His hair flowed over one shoulder as Qui-Gon held a difficult pose for several seconds.

"We've established a working relationship." Obi-Wan had to think about it for a few seconds to formulate an honest and accurate answer.

"I want you to tell me if you have any problems." A large hand settled on Obi-Wan's shoulder and gave a brief squeeze.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan nodded obediently, then left to secure them some breakfast. The large mess halls were just beginning their day.

He'd been a bit anxious about working with Bruck, and Qui-Gon knew it. Though their paths had crossed over the years, Obi-Wan had been able to successfully avoid the other padawan for the most part. They had never been assigned together. Obi-Wan knew that he should let go of past hurts and accept Bruck at face value, but that was easier said than done. When Chun had arrived yesterday and said he'd been assigned to assist Obi-Wan, there had been a moment of elation, quickly followed by shame at the feeling. As Qui-Gon's padawan, he outranked Bruck, but there was no pride in gloating about it. 

He was able to grab some cold rolls and fruit juice, eating his share as he walked back to their tent. He and his master had been here almost three weeks now, since the beginning of the terrible floods. The planet's weather systems, already violent, had been worsened by the passage of a comet that had come quite close to the atmosphere. The yearly monsoon had become something far worse. The central continent, upon which he stood, was in danger of being washed away. The rain had moved north now. It was better for the refugee camp - everyone wasn't wet and cold now - but worse for the environment because it was headed for the mountains where it could do more damage. 

 

Bruck and his master, J'at Jef-ress, were already at the tent, waiting outside with Qui-Gon and two Hichellan scientists. Obi-Wan handed Qui-Gon his meal, bowed to Jef-ress, and nodded at Bruck.

"A new problem has been discovered, Padawan," Qui-Gon told him.

Obi-Wan took his place at his master's side and waited for more information.

"Two days ago we sent a university team into the Relly Mountains, students and researchers," one of the scientists spoke, "to measure the depth and viscosity of the mud that was gathering on the slopes." The voice was grating but so soft that everyone had to strain to hear it. 

"We were hoping to set charges and divert the direction of the flow when it occurred, sparing the city below it," the other one chimed in. Obi-Wan had yet to figure out how their sex was detected. He could tell on the children, because juveniles of different genders were different colors, but the adults all looked alike to him.

"The situation is worse than reported. The team is now stranded." They exchanged nods. Obi-Wan fought the urge to smile. These people minded him of nothing so much as fluffy birds, especially with the way they nodded and shook their heads as part of conversations. They had scales instead of feathers, but otherwise the similarity was amusing.

"They have some food, but they are cut off from their path and cannot get down."

"It's too cold for them to stay up there another night," Bruck spoke up, and his master did not comment. Obi-Wan did not know much about the woman, only that her specialty was administration. She was here to direct refugee organization and supplies distribution.

He wondered how Bruck felt about that; they probably didn't get to see as much action as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan did. As the top negotiator of the Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn was only sent to places generally on the verge of or actively involved in conflict.

Obi-Wan again thanked the Force for choosing him for Qui-Gon Jinn.

"We will retrieve them," Qui-Gon said firmly. "How many are in the party?"

"Eight."

"We'll take a large aircar and avoid landing in the mud, so we don't trigger a flow." Qui-Gon nodded at Obi-Wan as he turned away, and the padawan understood it was his job to secure the needed transportation. He saw Bruck looking after him as the adults continued their discussion. It seemed that the other padawan was smirking.

 

Bruck tried to keep the smirk off his face as he watched Obi-Wan walk away. He'd been less than thrilled yesterday to find out he was working with the other padawan, figuring that Kenobi was going to lord it over him. It rankled, that Oafy-Wan outranked him. But Obi-Wan had just smiled and let Bruck take charge. He probably knew he wasn't qualified to handle an operation like that.

All he ever did was run around the Republic, trailing after his crazy master. Bruck couldn't begin to count the number of rumors he'd heard about Qui-Gon Jinn. He was a rebel, he rejected the Code, he refused to follow orders. He was going to wind up getting Obi-Wan kicked out of the Jedi.

Hearing all those things wasn't the same as actually meeting the man, though. Sure, he’d met him once, years ago, when he was still an Initiate. But that was different; Jinn had been even weirder then. There was no other explanation for him choosing Obi-Wan Kenobi over Bruck Chun. 

And he was probably regretting that choice, Bruck thought. Sending him to get an aircar; what a stupid job. Kenobi missed more Temple classes than he attended and he was always behind on his work. Though Bruck couldn't know his actual scores - those were available only to a padawan and their master - he was sure Kenobi was in danger of failing every one. The fact that he was still a padawan at all was amazing to Bruck.

His master would never send him off on some stupid make-work errand like getting an aircar.

Thinking about that made him realize that he wasn't exactly paying attention to the conversation. He tuned back in, secretly relieved his master hadn't noticed his lapse in attention. If she had she might have scolded him right there in front of Master Jinn... Bruck had no respect for the man, but he didn't want to be embarrassed in front of him, either.

What he heard next surprised him greatly.

"I think Padawan Chun would benefit from joining us on this mission." Master Jinn said. He wasn't really looking at Master Jef-ress. It seemed that he was staring at the air above her head.

Bruck thought it was rude, but held his tongue. His master would comment on it later if she felt the need to point out the behavior. She usually left Bruck to draw his own conclusions about these things. The few times he had asked she had berated him for not making his own decisions.

So he had to base his expectations of Jinn on the rumors and history he knew from the Temple, as well as the man's actions here.

He didn't really want to go on the mission; it sounded cold and messy. But maybe Master Jinn needed someone to help him, since Obi-Wan was probably worthless in the field. Bruck perked up at the thought. Maybe Qui-Gon would say something nice about him to his master and she would loosen some of the restrictions she kept on him.

He paid careful attention to the conversation, hoping his interest would influence her. But she ignored him.

"I do not think so." Acid could have dripped from her words. Bruck saw what he would have interpreted as concern flicker across Jinn's face. He looked master Jef-ress in the eyes now. Bruck wished he'd kept his eyes on the ground. Now she was going to be mad, and he was going to get it.

When Obi-Wan returned a few moments later, a disagreement seemed to have broken out.

Qui-Gon was his usual serene self; he even managed to look far cleaner than the surroundings should have allowed. On the other hand, J'at Jef-ress was clearly disturbed by something.

Obi-Wan slipped into his place at Qui-Gon's shoulder without a word, knowing that his master would understand from his presence that the task had been accomplished.

"I will not entrust my padawan to the rebel Jedi master," J'at-Jef-ress spoke quietly, controlling herself, but she was obviously angry. Qui-Gon eyed her with a twist to his lips that Obi-Wan recognized. He relaxed, and then realized that he hadn't even been aware he'd been tense. It seemed that Bruck's master was someone Qui-Gon did not hold in particularly high regard, though that didn't mean she wasn't a good Jedi. Their specialties were very different, and Qui-Gon was not the most tolerant of men when it came to the opinions of others. His was not a sin of pride; he just knew he was better than most at what he did. Obi-Wan decided that there wasn't anything Jef-ress could teach him about negotiation, though if he ever needed to learn administrative techniques he would reconsider. Very early in their partnership he had learned to read his master and figure these things out for himself. Qui-Gon was too busy to discuss every person they met; he trusted Obi-Wan to decide for himself which he should choose as teachers and from which he should learn what to not do.

Obi-Wan had only chosen poorly once that he knew of, and he'd learned that lesson well. Now he read his master carefully before making his own judgement.

"Padawan Chun does not get as much field experience as my padawan," Qui-Gon shrugged. "It would benefit his training to accompany us."

"You take too many chances."

"I want to go, Master," Bruck spoke up and Obi-Wan watched with interest. His childhood nemesis had always had a problem keeping his thoughts to himself, but they had usually been directed at other initiates, not masters. Obi-Wan himself would never have spoken out like that in front of others. If he disagreed with Qui-Gon they would discuss it in private. To argue with him in public would damage his reputation. "You've been saying I should do more real work."

The look she gave him made Obi-Wan think he was right in this. She didn't appreciate him speaking like that. As though he was criticizing her. Bruck didn't even notice.

"You will have to follow instructions," Qui-Gon said flatly. Obi-Wan could tell he was annoyed by Bruck's attitude.

"I'll do as I'm told, never fear," Bruck replied breezily.

"Then with your permission," Qui-Gon nodded to the padawan's master, "we go." His words were courteous, but by pressing the issue he made it difficult for her to refuse. Qui-Gon turned, and Obi-Wan led the way to the aircar. It was a large one, battered and worn. He had chosen it after inspecting the engine; of the three available, this one had an engine that had been recently overhauled. Not a guarantee, but the best of the sorry lot to choose from.

Master J'at waited until they'd taken several steps away before indicating Bruck could follow.

Qui-Gon took the passenger seat and Bruck made as if to climb into the driver's side. A hard look from the tall master sent him into a second seat while Obi-Wan sat in the pilot's seat and powered up the engine.

It sputtered and then roared too loudly.

"Was this the best you could come up with, Kenobi?" Bruck taunted, making a show of strapping himself in. Qui-Gon settled back in his seat, pulling his robes around him, and closed his eyes.

Obi-Wan glanced at him while they lifted off and saw the lines around his eyes. They were deeper than he liked. His master was exhausted. 

"Quiet, Chun," he answered without heat. Qui-Gon's rest was far more important than proving himself to this blowhard. He watched Bruck out of the corner of his eye and saw the other padawan staring at Qui-Gon. He seemed to be happy with what he saw because he turned his attention back to Obi-Wan.

"Don't go getting too big for your britches, Kenobi," Bruck leaned forward to continue. "You may outrank me for now, but we both know that was only an accident. Everyone knows he only took you because he had to save you on that planet."

Obi-Wan sighed and steered the ship into a wide turn. It was too heavy and unwieldy to fly gracefully, but as he got a feel for her he became more convinced that she would do whatever he asked of her.

"You need to be quiet and let me fly, Chun."

"Yeah, I guess you need to pay attention. That was never your strong suit..." Bruck sat back and snickered as the aircar lurched in turbulence and Obi-Wan worked to keep her flying smoothly.

Qui-Gon made a soft sound, questioning, and Obi-Wan reached over a hand and patted his knee to answer. They didn't need words between them at times like these. In the reflection that showed the pilot the back of the aircar, Obi-Wan saw Bruck roll his eyes and chuff as if amused by the affection.

Their goal was several hours outside of the town, high up the next mountain slope. As they flew over Obi-Wan watched the scenery and silently mourned what he saw. Acres of carefully terraced gardens and vegetable plots had been washed away. Scattered homes and belongings littered the rain-washed foothills.

This planet would be a long time recovering from the disaster.

At least it was a natural disaster, though. He had found in their travels that it was easier for a people to overcome something like this, that came from outside of them, than it was to struggle back to health after something internal: civil war, a coup. It had taken him some time to understand this once he recognized it.

"An outside enemy gives them something to unite against," he murmured, and saw a smile twitch on Qui-Gon's lips as his master continued to rest.

"Did you say something, Kenobi?" Bruck leaned forward. Obi-Wan glanced back at him and saw that the other padawan wasn't doing anything constructive. Either he hadn't learned to take advantage of every free moment to study or the life he led with his master didn't require it. A pang of jealousy twinged Obi-Wan and he looked again at Qui-Gon.

He had never questioned if it were worth it. The constant traveling, the work, always being behind in his studies, always playing catch-up in classes. The instructors understood, and that was all he asked. If the other padawans - planet-bound, temple-trained, and apprenticed to masters who didn't spend every waking hour solving planetary crises - if they didn't understand and they thought him slow or lazy, that was their prerogative.

But occasionally it rankled.

"I was just revisiting a lesson, Chun." He didn't want to get into a conversation with Bruck. It would be an exercise in futility. He had better things to expend his energy on. Such as writing his thesis in Senior Diplomacy, which was due as soon as he could get it inputted and transmitted. In other words, it was late.

Thinking that, he noted that he'd spent nearly a planetary hour just flying, and that was enough of a break. He seldom allowed himself more. Flying anything was a pleasure, even a top-heavy rundown aircar, but there were times to work and times to play.

With one hand on the stick, he reached down and pulled his small data padd out of an inner pocket. His hand instinctively selected the correct combination and he brought up the almost-finished assignment. Just to be sure he played back the last few lines.

"...realizing that the basic needs of every society are much the same, a negotiator or negotiating team can build a strategy around that knowledge. Food and shelter are primary, family and culture secondary. It is imperative that the negotiators understand the culture before attempting to..."

Obi-Wan hit the stop button and set the padd in his lap, considering. 

"You're still not finished with that?" Bruck mocked him. It seemed that he was trying to be friendly, but Obi-Wan didn't trust it. "I turned mine in two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago my master and I were rescuing a colony of Geomites from the genetic cleansing that's wiping them out on their world." It had been a horrific mission, dragging a couple of hundred of terrified, peaceful Geomites over hundreds of miles decorated with the dead and dying bodies of their brethren while avoiding the death-squads that hunted them. They had gotten them all off-planet and settled on a neutral Republic world where their race would survive, but Obi-Wan would never forget those images.

"Of course you were." Bruck made a sound like a snort and Obi-Wan sighed. He wouldn't understand. No one that hadn't experienced it would ever understand. His childhood friends even thought he had a cushy position. They seemed to think that Qui-Gon Jinn was wined and dined, feted and feasted, on every planet they visited. More often than not they wound up eating scraps on the run while the people they'd been sent to help did their best to kill them.

His notes were safely locked in his head. He checked the displays; the aircar was flying well. He could safely work on his paper.

"Want to play something?" Bruck leaned further over and bumped Qui-Gon's elbow. 

The master grunted and turned his head. Automatically Obi-Wan reached to soothe him, stroking his jaw, the beard soft to his fingers. Qui-Gon sighed and lapsed back into deep sleep.

"I have work to do."

"What was that all about?" Bruck tried to slip between the seats, but there wasn't enough room. Obi-Wan barred the way with a straight arm, eliciting a complaint. "Out of the way, Oafy-Wan, I wanna see the panel."

"I'm the pilot, Chun. Get back into your seat and find something useful to do. If you didn't bring anything I have a second padd in my robe with a download of selected readings for next year's Advanced Cultural Seminar."

"Only someone like you would be reading an assignment months in advance," Bruck said, moving reluctantly back. "It's not like you're going to turn in anything on time anyhow."

As soon as the padawan moved, Obi-Wan turned his attention to his work. He picked up right where he left off; the next sentence had been floating around in his head for a few days now, since he'd last worked on it. An advantage of the close quarters they were sharing: no time for lovemaking meant more time for classwork. He'd rather have had ample time for both; but then, he'd rather he didn't have to deal with Bruck, either.

Focusing on the moment and letting his worries and aggravations slip into the Force, Obi-Wan got to work.

Bruck's mutters and editorial comments were blithely ignored.

 

"Master." With a hand on Qui-Gon's knee, Obi-Wan gently woke him. "Master."

"I'm awake, Padawan." A large, callused hand covered his briefly, then withdrew, as if Qui-Gon remembered the presence of the other padawan. "Report."

"We're about twenty minutes from the site of the mudslide. I've written eight more pages on my thesis, and our vehicle is running within normal parameters."

Sitting up, Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow at him. Obi-Wan gave him a quick grin, knowing his master was amused by the formality of his statement. He was doing it more to tweak Bruck than anything, but it also helped him remember to keep their visible relationship on a professional basis.

Qui-Gon's chuckle was barely audible, but it made Obi-Wan smile.

"Very good, Padawan." Qui-Gon began configuring the sensor array.

"Master Jinn, may I compliment you on your speech yesterday? I know the camp found it inspiring." Bruck spoke up unexpectedly. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes before turning his head to reply.

"Thank you, Padawan Chun. Now, don't you have anything to be working on? What have you accomplished during the idle hours this journey provided?"

"I, uh, I rested, as you did, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon nodded as if that were important and Obi-Wan smothered a snicker with the back of his hand, trying to turn it into a cough. He knew his master hadn't fallen for it, though. From the first Obi-Wan had kept busy, taking note of Qui-Gon's habits and copying them until they became his own. The thought of sitting idle for any length of time was an anathema to him.

Apparently Bruck hadn't learned the same thing.

"An interesting choice," Qui-Gon grunted, turning back to the sensors, one of which was flashing red. "Padawan, I believe we have located our missing scientists." He pointed to a spot halfway up the slope they were currently skimming. "Find us someplace relatively level and dry. We'll hike to them."

"Why not land someplace closer, Master?" Bruck asked as politely as he should. Qui-Gon didn't answer, which told Obi-Wan that he was free to.

"If there are more mudslides we want to be sure the aircar is free of them so our transportation is safe."

"Won't survivors be too badly wounded to hike?" Bruck was still looking at Qui-Gon, but Obi-Wan answered again, his master being absorbed with sensor data.

"If they're wounded we'll heal them as much as we can and carry those we have to. Protecting our means of escape is more important."

"We're not healers."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply, but slid a glance at his master first. Qui-Gon's features were set. Not angry, but not pleased, either. Obi-Wan was devoting too much attention to this conversation. So he cut it off.

"Talk to your master about it, Chun," Obi-Wan said flatly. He'd almost let his temper lead him astray. It had been a long time since that happened. Bruck had always known exactly what to say and how to say it to best annoy him. It was a gift.

"The area is still quite unstable," Qui-Gon said. "We will need to reach the survivors and extract them as quickly as possible."

"Yes, Master. There's a small ledge ahead... do you see it?"

"The one with the large everbrowns?" Qui-Gon nodded.

"Hopefully their root systems are well-established. They should be able to withstand a slide," Obi-Wan theorized.

"Possibly. It does see to be the best option."

With that endorsement Obi-Wan slowed the aircar and turned them to hover over the ledge. It was smaller than he'd thought, but still large enough for their purpose. He landed with the expected thump; the vehicle's steering mechanism was antiquated and not responsive enough to allow for delicate maneuvering. Of course Bruck had to comment while they were gathering gear and climbing out.

"Now I know why you always score so high on flight simulations." He jumped from the car in front of Qui-Gon and turned to offer the master Jedi a hand down. Qui-Gon took it with dignity and Obi-Wan clambered out on his own, again smothering a snicker. Bruck must have been well-schooled in chivalry by his master, but it seemed he thought of Qui-Gon as elderly and in need of assistance. He must have missed the last lightsaber competition Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had won. Just as he had missed the skill levels on the flight simulations Obi-Wan had been failing on their last visit to the Temple. Every one had ended in a spectacular crash, true, but he'd been flying levels 18 through 20, the highest level. Most Jedi never ventured above level 10. There really wasn't any need; level 10 made you a good enough pilot to fly just about anything available.

The levels above were all about fine-tuning and making vehicles do things they really shouldn't. Obi-Wan paused for Qui-Gon to get his bearings. Bruck was staring at them as if they were idiots.

Obi-Wan unloaded their packs, ignoring Bruck and staying busy. 

"Who's got the map?" Bruck asked.

Obi-Wan couldn't help it. He snickered loudly. "He wants to see the map, Master."

"An interesting concept, Padawan." Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled, but his face was serious. This was a serious mission, after all. But Obi-Wan knew there would always be room for his admittedly odd sense of humor wherever they were.

Neither of them answered Bruck, who seemed to huff up, as if he were getting angry. It only took a look from Qui-Gon to quell that, but it was clear Bruck was unhappy with both of them when Qui-Gon closed his eyes and reached with the Force. Obi-Wan followed his lead, wondering if this time he would locate the object of the search before his master, but, as always, his attachment to the Living Force paled in comparison to Qui-Gon's and his master spoke first.

"This way." He led off with sure strides that ate up the muddy ground. Obi-Wan waited for Bruck to follow. The other padawan hesitated, but then shrugged and went after Qui-Gon, leaving Obi-Wan to bring up the rear. Bruck probably thought it was an honor or something, but the truth was Obi-Wan wanted him in the safest position, and he knew Qui-Gon agreed because he didn't comment on it.

The going was hard. The mud was dense, filled with downed shrubs and small trees. It grabbed at their legs and leggings. When Qui-Gon stopped and wrapped his robe up, folding it between his legs, front-to-back and back-to-front, Bruck seemed shocked, but he did the same, awkwardly, when Obi-Wan did. It made it that much easier to walk, and kept their bodies better protected from the growing cold.

They had left early in the morning; it was past midday now. Obi-Wan hoped they wouldn't have to spend the night on this mountain, but he suspected that was going to be the case. It all depended on the condition of the survivors.

He noticed Bruck drinking from his canteen sparingly and wondered why he didn't just drink as much as he wanted. They had chemtabs to clean more water if they needed it. They even had a portable straining machine that would separate the mud from the water if they couldn't find a stream or lake. The water never tasted very good, but it was safe.

It was possible that Bruck had never been on a field mission under these circumstances. He may have never needed to learn these things. Obi-Wan skipped a couple of steps closer and tapped him on the shoulder.

"We don't need to ration water." 

"What if we run out?" Bruck looked disbelieving.

"It's not a desert, Chun. We'll be fine." Kenobi said seriously.

Obi-Wan stared at Bruck until he lifted the canteen and took another long drink. He was so thirsty he only did it because he wanted to, not because Obi-Wan had told him it was okay. What did Kenobi know? He couldn't even get his schoolwork in on time. Bruck always got assignments in exactly on time. His master was a fanatic about it. 

What kind of master was Qui-Gon Jinn if his padawan always turned classwork in late? It wasn't a topic Bruck was particularly interested in, but it gave him something to think about while he tromped through the mud. It was thick and hard to move in; it sucked at his feet and tried to hold him in place. He felt worn out quickly. This was the hardest physical thing he'd done since the Advanced Senior survival class he'd taken two cycles back. That had been hard, but he'd passed with respectable marks. Of course, since then he hadn't done much. He always seemed to be tied to a computer or a datapadd, working on something for his master or a class. When he wasn't doing that she always found something else for him to do. When he did have free time he\ liked to spend it with his friends, since he almost never got to see them. So it was understandable that he was having a hard time now; nobody he knew traveled in conditions like these! They should have flown the aircar all the way to the survivors. This was just an example of Master Jinn's famous stubbornness. He had to do things the hard way. Maybe he was showing off, doing this without a map. That was ridiculous. Of course they had a map. The two of them were just having him on.

The mud grabbed at him and he tripped over an exposed root, barely catching himself before he fell. He bit back words of anger, not wanting to be reprimanded and maybe sent back to wait. His master would have done that, but Jinn just glanced back and kept walking, like Bruck didn't even matter. Well, he was just a padawan, it wasn't like he was important.

"You okay?" Kenobi asked from behind him. It must have been easier to walk back there, after Bruck and Jinn broke the trail, because he hardly looked tired, and he wasn't stumbling. Bruck felt a little bit angry that he had to take the middle while Obi-Wan got the easy spot.

"Fine, Kenobi. Just do your best to keep up, willya?" Bruck snapped, irritated. He'd only fell because he had a harder place to walk. And Jinn was so big and tall that it must be a lot easier for him to walk in this stuff. "Back off, you're disturbing my concentration."

When Bruck got so visibly angry, Obi-Wan was taken aback. His reaction seemed out of proportion to Obi-Wan's words. It was hard not to get irritated with him, but Obi-Wan was beginning, he thought, to understand some of the reasons Bruck acted the way he did. He'd seen it so many times in planetary leaders that he felt somewhat thick-headed for having not seen it in Bruck.

The people who were the most overbearing, the ones that acted like bullies and know-it-alls, were usually afraid. Afraid that their actual knowledge fell short, that they wouldn't be able to get people to do things any other way.

Once reassured that the Jedi weren't going to try to take over they usually mellowed out a bit. Maybe it was just important to Bruck that he be better at things than someone. He had to know his shortcomings, at least subconsciously. As long as he could tell himself he was better than Obi-Wan Kenobi, he didn't have to face them.

His master should have dealt with those issues long ago, when she first accepted him. Obi-Wan wondered why she had not, and determined to speak to his own master about it. He, too, had been riddled with insecurity and self-doubt when he became Qui-Gon's padawan. Qui-Gon's initial rejection, which led to Obi-Wan being assigned to the Agri-Corps, hadn't helped. One of the first things Qui-Gon had done was lead them through guided meditations to show him the error of that path. Now, whenever Obi-Wan felt those feelings rise, he went to his master and together they dealt with them.

Master J'at Jef-ress should have done the same for Bruck. Should be doing the same for him.

"Whatever you say, Kenobi," Bruck snapped back. It seemed as though he was getting tired, and it was too early in the journey for that. Though Obi-Wan and his master spent a lot of time sitting in negotiations, they always made time for physical training every day, even at the expense of rest.

Their lives and the lives of those they sought to help often depended on their physical condition. Obi-Wan found that he was developing an active dislike of Bruck's master. It seemed to him that she wasn't giving the other padawan what he needed.

But he was in no position to judge. Most Jedi didn't end up in positions as active as the one he and Qui-Gon filled. There weren't that many top negotiating teams. Bruck probably wouldn't need to be at the same level of conditioning as Obi-Wan.

Instead of saying anything to Bruck, Obi-Wan fell back into line and called up his connection to the Force. This wasn't something he did often, though he had been working on it, with Qui-Gon's guidance. His master's ability to touch the Force, to commune with it, was remarkable even among the Jedi and Obi-Wan knew he would never be as intimate with it as Qui-Gon was. He continued to work at it, though.

Now he found a bright stream of energy in the web of life that surrounded them; everything here was vibrant with the Force, living and growing with joyous abandon. Even the storm and the mudslides added to the chorus, the song of Life. Following that bright ribbon, Obi-Wan backtracked it to a stand of trees they were passing. They had life and energy to spare, so he siphoned off a little bit and directed it toward Bruck's faltering glimmer.

Bruck brightened and he straightened a bit as he walked and Obi-Wan was pleased with his success. He saw Qui-Gon look back and knew that his master had felt the exchange and hoped that he approved. While they continued on, Obi-Wan watched for any sign Bruck was aware of what Obi-Wan had done, but it seemed the other padawan was either Force-blind or too preoccupied to notice. 

"They should be just over that next rise," Qui-Gon stopped them a while later. Obi-Wan had bolstered Bruck once more, and now the other padawan looked fresher than he did. "I have tried to compute our angle of arrival so that we do not trigger any further events, but the situation is precarious. We will have to separate widely, so that if one of us is caught in a slide the others will not be."

"I thought it would be safe now." Bruck looked up at the sky. They couldn't see the ships in space that were working to stabilize the planetary weather patterns, but they were there.

Qui-Gon frowned at him and Bruck ducked his head a little, chastened. It was the first time Obi-Wan had seen him act that way. Maybe the trek had taken more out of him than Obi-Wan had been able to replace.

"You know better than that, Padawan Chun. It may take weeks for the climate control to go online, and longer than that for the soil to dry out."

"It's been weeks."

"And it may be many more."

Obi-Wan stepped up beside Bruck and sought his master's eyes. Qui-Gon caught his and they exchanged a look. Silently they agreed that something had to be done about the way Bruck was being trained.

He may have been cruel to Obi-Wan when they were children, they might never be friends, but it was important that his potential not be wasted. Obi-Wan had long been aware that there were too few Jedi to cover the Republic. It was one of the reasons he and Qui-Gon worked so much and so hard. Problems that could have been averted were ignored in favor of emergencies that should have been prevented and the cycle just got worse.

If Bruck hadn't been meant to be a Jedi he wouldn't have been there with them. They would do what they could to help him get there.

"I will take the left flank, Master." Obi-Wan knew from his review of the mission that the left was the area in greatest danger. If there was a slide he wanted to be the one caught beneath it. Though it wasn't quite an issue, he was younger than Qui-Gon and his endurance was marginally greater.

And he had a better chance of being found by his master than he had of finding his master, should the worst happen.

Qui-Gon nodded. Obi-Wan knew he had examined his padawan's reasoning and agreed with it.

"Padawan Chun, you take the right. I will take the center. Do not move directly toward the survivors, we don't want to disturb the area directly around them. Try to travel obliquely. We will have to control them, prevent them from acting impulsively, and keep them in their area until we are ready to move them."

Both padawans nodded.

"We go," Qui-Gon said.

They crested the hill in a fan pattern and continued to spread out as they made their way downwards. Obi-Wan was worried about Bruck, but didn't have the time available to concentrate enough to help him.

They spread out until there was a good twenty feet between them. The survivors came into sight quickly, and began shouting and waving their hands. Qui-Gon gestured at them to stay where they were. Fortunately they seemed aware that they were still in danger, and obeyed.

Obi-Wan was working his way through a particularly slippery patch when it happened, so he didn't actually see it. There was an oddly soft sound, a low...whooshing...noise that got progressively louder until it filled his head with a pounding.

He went to his knees, not looking up, curled around them and covered his head with his arms, trying to create an air pocket.

Then the sound was gone and he was still there. Cold and wet and muddy, on the ground, feeling slightly foolish.

He stood, straightened, and looked around.

A wide swath of the mud lay smooth and shiny some twenty feet away from him. The slide appeared to have been a small one; only a few feet wide and it had only descended thirty or forty yards.

Bruck was staring at it with his eyes wide, and the survivors of the original slide were huddled together, clinging to each other, their scales uniformly filthy.

Qui-Gon was nowhere to be seen.

Without thinking Obi-Wan went again to his knees. If he allowed doubt into his mind his master, his lover, was as good as dead. He had to believe he could do this.

"Kenobi, what are you doing?! Your master is gone!!" Bruck shouted. The earth rumbled a warning and he clapped both hands over his mouth.

Obi-Wan ignored him and reached out. The training bond he shared with Qui-Gon was thin and unsatisfying in most circumstances; he yearned for the wide-open richness of the full bond that was still denied them. But it was enough; he could feel Qui-Gon's Force signature. It flickered unsteadily; he was injured, but he was alive. More important, he knew Obi-Wan had found him.

Obi-Wan stood again, hanging onto that tremor of connection, and studied the smooth grey ground.

It was too fresh to be walked on. He turned in a circle, choosing his tools. There was a large everbrown conveniently placed. It took long minutes to work his way over to it. He saw the disbelief in Bruck's eyes and the other padawan couldn't keep himself from speaking, but he kept it low and quiet, using a tone of voice that carried well. Obi-Wan was glad to see that he'd learned some things. Probably as much as he could, given the circumstances. He always had high marks in classes, he just didn't get enough exposure to the field.

"We have to start digging." Bruck injected urgency into the tone and Obi-Wan wondered how good he was at the mind trick. He sounded like he would be good at it. Obi-Wan hadn't quite got the hang of it yet. "He's going to run out of air."

"He can hold his breath for six minutes, seven if he has to." Obi-Wan answered without looking up from what he was doing; searching the trunk of the tree for the correct angle to cut it at. He wanted it to land across the slide so he could walk on it, anchored in the relatively firmer ground on either side. He powered up his 'saber.

"You can't cut a tree with that!" Bruck was losing the battle with urgency. His training told him to act, and act now. It had taken Obi-Wan years to understand that acting in haste was often the worst mistake you could make.

He had seen Qui-Gon cut reinforced plas-steel with his 'saber. It had taken time and effort, but Obi-Wan knew that willpower was the deciding factor. If you were sufficiently motivated, you could cut literally anything with one.

He considered himself highly motivated in this instance.

It didn't take as long as he thought it would. There was a little clock in his head, ticking away the seconds of Qui-Gon's life. He was injured, that might affect the way his body used oxygen, he might not be able to hold it as long as possible. Obi-Wan adjusted his estimate downwards and suddenly there were only a couple of minutes left.

As soon as the tree started to fall he jumped out of the way and reached out with the Force, both arms raised, and caught it with his mind. It was heavy, too heavy. Obi-Wan grunted and went to his knees for a third time, struggling to lower the trunk slowly; if he let it slam down he would trigger another slide and more would die.

Suddenly the load lightened and he opened his eyes long enough to see that Bruck had joined forces with him. Together they lowered the tree with scarcely a bump and Obi-Wan leapt up to scamper across it. It had landed nearly perfectly; he was only inches away from Qui-Gon's location.

Digging had to be done by hand, but Bruck stepped in again, metaphorically, and held the tree trunk steady so Obi-Wan could anchor himself. 

It took longer than he thought he had, but he reached his master and dragged the big body from the sucking mud. It seemed reluctant to give up its newest victim.

Eschewing dignity and grace, Obi-Wan bent and lifted the larger man over his shoulders and worked his way carefully along the tree until he stood on somewhat firm ground again. Even then he didn't stop. He caught Bruck's eye and the other padawan began to make his way toward the survivors. Obi-Wan did as well, following a different path to lessen the chances of another slide.

There was no telling what had triggered the one that had caught Qui-Gon.

"Find out which ones are the most badly hurt so we know how many we'll have to carry," he told Bruck when they both got to the plateau. The survivors crowded around, speaking their thanks and wanting to know how they were going to get off the mountain and what the Jedi were going to do. Obi-Wan saw right away that only students were left standing, which actually made his job easier; sometimes adults didn't take him seriously. Especially in a crisis.

"What about - ?" Bruck didn't move to do what Obi-Wan said.

"Now, Chun!" Obi-Wan put as much force into the words as he dared. He couldn't deal with a mutiny right now. Not looking to see if he was being obeyed, he laid his master down and began to look him over.

The list of wounds wasn't as bad as he had feared, but it was worse than he'd hoped. Qui-Gon had suffered two broken ribs, he must have hit something rolling downhill, and he had aspirated some mud. He was coughing violently, his unconscious body shuddering with it. His right arm was broken as well, high up near the shoulder. Various cuts and scrapes were filled with the mud and the bacteria Obi-Wan was sure it contained. 

The first thing to do was get the mud out of his lungs. There was a small tube in the first-aid pack. It was meant to get water and liquid nutrients into an unconscious victim, but he figured it would work as well to get something out.

He tilted Qui-Gon's head back and reached into an inner pocket of his robe to retrieve a tube of lubricating gel, allowing himself a quick smile at using it this way - certainly this was not the use either of them preferred it for!

It was harder than he thought it would be to get the tube down his master's nasal passage, which was also coated with the mud. Then he had to get the suction moving, and ended up swallowing a mouthful himself. He sputtered and gagged, but the mud flowed sluggishly from his end of the tube, emptying itself from Qui-Gon's soggy lungs.

When Obi-Wan looked up from his task, Bruck had the healthiest of the survivors working on the three that seemed badly wounded. He had taken off his robe and they were using it to form a rough litter with branches and strips of tough bark. Obi-Wan just nodded at him, not wanting to speak, unable to take his attention away from Qui-Gon. He couldn't drain all of the mud - there was too great a chance the lungs would collapse and he would be unable to inflate them again.

There was bacta back at the refugee camp. A limited supply, but he was certain they would use it on a Jedi master.

"How are we going to get them all off?" Bruck came and squatted by him. 

Obi-Wan tenderly stroked Qui-Gon's lax face. Most people looked younger when they slept, but not his master. He actually looked closer to his actual age. Older than Obi-Wan liked to think about.

He saw that Bruck was looking at him oddly but continued the caress. The living warmth of Qui-Gon's skin reassured him.

"If everyone cooperates we can do it," he said quietly.

"It's going to be miserable," Bruck said, and stood.

There was some grumbling among the survivors, but most of them were so relieved to see a way off the mountain that they didn't care if they were going to have to hike long cold hours through the dark to do it. Teams were arranged to carry the wounded; they had built one litter that was just barely big enough to carry the two teachers. The third one was an adolescent, small enough to be carried in the arms of his friends.

When Bruck had them organized and ready to go, he came to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was wrapped in Obi-Wan's own robe, as tightly as he could manage to stabilize the broken ribs, and his arm was firmly tied to his body. He was breathing unevenly, his lungs still clogged, but he was getting enough air to feed brain cells. Obi-Wan hoped.

"I've got another blanket," Bruck said, furling it out carefully so it didn't drag in the mud.

Obi-Wan used his 'saber to cut two long green branches and together they lashed the blanket to it, forming a second rough litter. He tied Qui-Gon to it, hoping he was wrapped tightly enough to prevent the broken ribs from puncturing a lung.

He and Bruck carried Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan at his feet since they were going down the mountain. 

It was a harsh journey. The temperature dropped drastically. The mud that had sucked at their feet turned to ice that crunched and slid, sending them stumbling and falling into each other.

Obi-Wan managed to retain his footing, but only because he'd had experience with this sort of thing. Ideally a Jedi would use a touch of levitation to lighten his weight and make it easier to walk on the treacherous surface, but he couldn't spare the energy. Between carrying Qui-Gon and trying to shore up Bruck, he was rapidly becoming exhausted. The energy he fed them did not come from him, but he had to work to get it.

"Stop that," Bruck snarled behind him. It was unexpected, after hours of slipping around in the dark. The survivors were being as tough as they could. They didn't complain or whine. Just plodded onward, trusting that the Jedi knew where they were going.

"Stop what?" Startled, Obi-Wan paused in his slippery steps and looked back over his shoulder. There was just enough starlight to make out Bruck's features in shadow.

"Stop helping me. You need it more than I do." Bruck sounded truly angry. 

"I'm used to this," Obi-Wan said, looking back at the ground in front of him and taking another step.

"You're dead on your feet. What right do you have to judge me?!" Bruck was angry.

"You wouldn't have made it up here without my help, Chun," Obi-Wan answered, too tired to argue or be diplomatic. A bad sign. "I need you to get my master back safely, I'll do whatever it takes to see that happens."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"But you needed it." Obi-Wan shifted to the right to avoid what looked like a potentially deep puddle. The line behind him did the same. "You needed it, so I gave it."

"You're an arrogant pup, Kenobi," Bruck snarled, but it sounded as though he was complimenting him.

"I come by it naturally." He'd learned from Qui-Gon. Even when you don't know what you're doing, if you act as if you do people will believe you. That belief was sometimes half the battle.

"I'm okay for now," Bruck spoke again, more softly now. "Don't wear yourself out. Give me a chance to prove myself."

"Okay. But tell me if you get too tired. I don't want him dropped."

"As if," Bruck snorted, but it was almost a friendly sound. They walked in silence for a while longer. Obi-Wan called a break so they could rest briefly and, more importantly, stretch aching muscles. The others were taking turns with their burdens too, but he wasn't going to trust Qui-Gon to anyone else's hands. Bruck didn't suggest it either.

He sat with his eyes closed, Qui-Gon's head in his lap, and tried to catch his breath.

"We're not making very good time." Bruck dropped to the ground beside him. The survivors were checking their own injured.

"We'll get there."

"I'm not sure one of them is going to make it."

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through Qui-Gon's muddy hair. The action had always soothed him as much as it did his master.

"I'll see what I can do." 

He shifted to one side and it seemed that Bruck understood what he wanted, because the other padawan scooted over and took Qui-Gon's head into his own lap.

"Keep him propped a little, it makes it easier for him to breathe," Obi-Wan said, getting up and going to the others.

The oldest member of the team was in a critical state. Though Obi-Wan didn't know much about their physiology, he knew he had to do something or the teacher wouldn't make it back to the camp.

He settled himself into a meditative pose beside him and laid his hands on the scales of the older Hichellan's chest. It had been deeply cut by rocks and infection had set in quickly while they were stranded.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and summoned the Force. It came to him torpidly, a symptom of his own exhaustion. With more effort, he convinced it that he really did want it to come to him now. That he could handle it.

He had never tried to strengthen himself using the Force. For various reasons it was easier to give that energy to others. Tonight it seemed that he had no choice. If he wanted to save this man and get the others back safely he would have to help himself.

It was harder to direct the energy inward than to send it outwards. He gained less than others did because it was so hard. But eventually he felt somewhat better and decided it was safe to go ahead and heal the man as much as he could. The infection was the main threat, so he worked on it. He had to find and kill each little germ cell individually at first. As he got better at it and it became easier to separate them from the surrounding cells, he was able to kill off handfuls at a time. With each little death he felt the stir of the Force. Death had its own power, one he knew well to avoid. With each microscopic death it got a little easier to kill again, and he had to pull himself back twice. It would have been easy to get carried away and just start killing whatever his mind touched, but that was madness.

Anyone who was Force-sensitive knew the danger of going too deep. You could become drunk with it, swim in it, and never surface again. That was the first step on the path to the Dark Side.

Qui-Gon, with his seemingly depthless connection, appeared to be on the verge of it occasionally. The same thing that made him great was the thing that threatened him. Obi-Wan doubted that anyone understood the battle his master fought every waking moment. He was certain that he came the closest. When Qui-Gon had told him, the night they became lovers for the first time, that Obi-Wan was his wall against the darkness, Obi-Wan had cried.

He would gladly do or be anything Qui-Gon needed him to.

Now he had to pull himself back and abandon the task.

"I've done as much as I can," he told the hovering survivors when he opened his eyes.

Bruck waved at him and Obi-Wan got up and went to him, his body protesting with every movement. He'd expended too much energy and there was no way to replace it now.

"I think he's trying to wake up," Bruck said softly. Obi-Wan slid to the ground and they changed positions smoothly. Just as Obi-Wan leaned over him Qui-Gon opened his eyes and groaned.

"I have you, Master." Obi-Wan reached down and grabbed Qui-Gon's free hand. His master squeezed his painfully hard.

"Thank you, Padawan." The words were gasped, thick with mud.

"I had some help." Obi-Wan nodded toward Bruck, who was watching with lively interest. 

"My gratitude, Padawan Chun. I'll see that your master is aware of your valor."

"It was the least I could do, Master Jinn," Bruck said as he got up. "I'm going to see if the others are ready to start moving again." He went to the group with the man Obi-Wan had been healing.

"How bad am I?" Qui-Gon tipped his head back to look Obi-Wan in the eyes and the younger man found that he could smile again, for the first time in what felt like years.

"Two broken ribs, a broken arm and there's about a quart of mud still in your lungs. I siphoned off as much as I could."

"I've bruised a kidney as well," Qui-Gon said, concentration flitting over his face. "Are we camping here?"

"We stopped to rest. I wanted to get you and the others to medical attention as quickly as possible."

"You're tired."

It was an understatement.

"I'll rest when we get back."

"Have you been carrying me?"

"Bruck and I."

"Hm." It was a thoughtful sound Obi-Wan was familiar with. It made him chuckle to hear it now.

"No, he's not the same bully he was ten years ago. He's got some rough spots, but there's potential I didn't see when we were children."

"I am proud of you, Padawan, for moving beyond those experiences."

"If I didn't know better I would think you had arranged all of this just so the two of us could make peace." Obi-Wan caressed Qui-Gon's face with his fingertips and spoke with amusement. The skin was cool and damp, rough. Familiar, loved.

"I don't recall saying you know better." Qui-Gon chuckled, and then struggled to push himself up. "I will walk now."

"Master, are you sure?" Obi-Wan scrambled to help him gain his feet. Qui-Gon stood, swaying, and leaned his great weight on Obi-Wan's shoulders. It allowed them a chance to hold each other tightly. Obi-Wan pressed his face to the broad chest, seeking a trace of his master's scent beneath the slime and mud.

"You cannot carry me any longer, love." Qui-Gon's hand wrapped roughly around the back of his head and pressed it closer. Obi-Wan closed his eyes tightly, but tears seeped out anyhow. He swallowed a sob and then just leaned into the embrace, letting their mutual strength hold them both up.

After a few minutes Qui-Gon gave him a gentle shake and released him.

"I can lean on you or Padawan Chun as needed. We should resume the journey."

Obi-Wan looked over and saw that Bruck had the others ready to go. He was watching the two of them. Obi-Wan was suddenly embarrassed. What had Bruck seen in that? Had he seen the truth?

Was that something Obi-Wan wanted to share with his former nemesis?

The question wasn't raised. Qui-Gon gestured at the survivors.

"I am glad to see all of you. These Jedi apprentices have done everything they could to bring you to safety. If not for them we would all be stranded in the mud. Our journey is almost over. If we try, we can make it to the aircar and to the refugee camp by morning. Baths, hot food, and warm clothes await us all."

Obi-Wan watched Bruck Chun's disbelief when the ragtag group gave a little cheer.

Then they fell back into order, with Qui-Gon leaning on Obi-Wan. Bruck came to his other side and they started off.

It seemed that Qui-Gon's awakening had given them all new hope. Obi-Wan shook his head as they plodded on, as always amazed by his master's way with people. They listened to him. His personality was almost a force in itself.

"Someday you will have the same effect," Qui-Gon rumbled into his ear. Obi-Wan laughed aloud. Qui-Gon always knew what his padawan was thinking.

"I doubt it." They were going down a steep slope. He recognized it. They were close to the aircar.

"We're almost there, Master."

"I will have to sleep as soon as we board." Qui-Gon admitted. His lungs seemed to fight for every breath.

"I'll get us back safely," Obi-Wan promised. Though he was drained he knew he had the stamina to succeed. His master expected nothing less.

Qui-Gon just nodded and closed his eyes, letting his body work automatically, one foot in front of the other. 

Arriving at the aircar was anticlimactic. The survivors managed another little cheer, but as soon as everyone was aboard silence fell. The injured were strapped in and the others succumbed to their exhaustion, all of them slipping quickly into sleep. Bruck sat up front with Obi-Wan. He didn't suggest that he pilot the ship, or say anything at all.

Obi-Wan looked at him as they lifted off, but couldn't decipher the expression on his face. He was too worn-out to try, really, so he just turned what was left of his attention to flying.

"I may need you to keep me awake," he said after a while. The ground slipped beneath them, dark and unforgiving. He raised their altitude a bit.

"I gotcha," Bruck said. He'd been studying the display panel with single-minded intensity. Now he sat back and focused the same on Obi-Wan. "When did you start sleeping with your master?"

Obi-Wan swallowed; he hadn't expected such a blunt inquiry.

"Summer Solstice two years past." It was rare, he knew, for a master to take a padawan as a lover.

"Does the Council know?" Bruck seemed more curious than anything else. 

"They had to approve it before Qui-Gon would proceed." He snickered, remembering that day. It had been embarrassing, but amusing. Several Council members had seemed torn between disapproval and envy.

"So it wasn't something that just happened."

"No!" Obi-Wan laughed now. "We fought it so hard. Neither of us wanted to muddy the waters with a romantic entanglement."

"So it's more than sex." That didn't seem to be a question, and Obi-Wan looked over at Bruck.

The other padawan seemed sad.

"Much more. As soon as I pass the next rank we'll be bonded." Obi-Wan had to pay attention to the flying. The aircar was protesting the extended use. "It hasn't made anything easier for us, if you're wondering. It makes things harder. Now we have to question everything between us and divide our lives into two relationships; he has to be my master and I have to be his padawan when we're working, and we have to leave that behind when we're lovers. It always causes problems when the one bleeds into the other." 

"Isn't he - how to put this -" Bruck grimaced and Obi-Wan watched to see what he was going to say, "Isn't he kind of old?" 

"Not to me." Obi-Wan felt his lips curve into a gentle smile. "Qui-Gon may be older than we are, but he's the most powerful Jedi I've ever met. He's just this enormous wall I can lean on whenever I need to, physically or emotionally. I don't think I could survive without him." 

"So everything you can do now, you learned from him?"

"No." Obi-Wan slowed the engine slightly to give himself a moment's freedom. "Everything I can do I can do because of him. Because of the things he's taught me, the freedom he's given me. And because of the work I've done, the way he taught me to work. The way he expects me to learn. I am not a copy of Qui-Gon Jinn. I can do things he can't. He can do things I'll never be able to. We'll never be very much alike. But we complement each other almost perfectly." 

"Oh." 

Bruck didn't sound convinced, but Obi-Wan didn't know how to explain it better.

"When you find the right one you'll understand," he said confidently, picking up speed again.

There wasn't too much further to go. He was looking forward to returning. The mission was a success, everyone was going to be okay. Perhaps they would be allowed to rest for a day or two after this. He wanted to spend some time with Qui-Gon alone. Wanted it badly. Maybe they could borrow the aircar and do some recon? He might be able to convince his master they needed it. If they decided it would be the best thing for everyone involved, not just the two of them.

Thinking, Obi-Wan glanced over at Bruck, who had fallen silent. 

Had he said the right things to Bruck? Had he helped him or made things worse? There was a fine line between second-guessing himself and realistic concern. Obi-Wan decided that he had crossed it, and turned his attention back to the flying. Bruck's situation wasn't something he was going to salvage during this flight. It was enough that he had given the other padawan some things to think about.

The flight continued, the silence broken only by the snuffled snores of the Hichellans and Qui-Gon's slow, raspy breathing.

"There's the camp," Bruck spoke for the first time in hours. 

"I see it."

The second moon of the planet was just beginning to set. The small landing field was lit with torches. There were people there, waiting for them.

Something occurred to Obi-Wan.

"Bruck - I have a favor to ask," he said as he brought the ship in for a landing.

"Yeah?" There was a trace of Bruck's previous attitude in the tone.

"This thing between my master and me - it's not public knowledge. We'd rather keep it that way. It's something we don't want to share with others yet." 

"I understand," Bruck said. Obi-Wan waited, but the other padawan didn't continue. He considered the merits of pressing for a more binding agreement, but decided it wouldn't be worth the aggravation that would cause. He would just have to believe that Bruck wouldn't betray him.

"We're here." Obi-Wan was almost surprised when they landed and the door finally opened. Medical personnel reached in and began carrying out the wounded, including his master. Obi-Wan just sat and watched until Bruck shook his shoulder.

"He's going straight to the bacta tank. Come on, we'll get cleaned up and eat something before you go see him."

"Thank you, Bruck," Obi-Wan said softly as they climbed out together. The crowd had vanished, trailing off into the dawning morn with their own and the wounded. Obi-Wan tipped his head back and welcomed the warmth of the greenish sun on his face. "Thank you." He directed the last not at Bruck, or really at anyone or anything. He was just thankful and felt the need to say so.

Bruck looked at him strangely but didn't say anything. Obi-Wan had to fight the urge to laugh. He was probably a teensy bit hysterical now.

They went in search of baths and food, in that order.

 

Obi-Wan was dozing lightly when Bruck ducked into the small hospital tent. This was the first chance he'd had since Master Jinn had come out of the bacta after two days of treatment. His master had kept him busy with minor chores, as if she was punishing him for the success of the mission.

It was an unworthy thought and he sought to banish it.

Master Qui-Gon Jinn was on a raised bed, flat on his back, one arm by his side and the other resting in Obi-Wan's lap, their hands twined loosely together. Bruck paused to study the picture they presented.

He was confused by the feelings that stirred within him. As soon as he'd learned they were to take part in this mission - he and his master - he'd looked forward to seeing Obi-Wan Kenobi again.

Oafy-Wan. When they were younger Bruck had ruled the roost. He'd been top dog in their Initiate class and never missed a chance to remind the others of it. Especially Obi-Wan.

Kenobi had been smaller than he, and slightly timid. Unsure of himself. At first Bruck had thought it was an act, but then he'd understood how insecure Obi-Wan was. He'd taken advantage of that insecurity, telling himself that it was for the good of the Jedi if he made Obi-Wan tougher. And if his heckling somehow affected Kenobi's chance of becoming a padawan, well, then he hadn't been meant to be one anyhow.

Then he'd heard about Qui-Gon Jinn. That the greatest Jedi master had chosen Obi-Wan Kenobi to be his padawan. After Kenobi was sent to the Agri-Corps, leaving the Temple a failure.

He'd been so angry. It hadn't been fair. Little Obi-Wan Kenobi, padawan to Qui-Gon Jinn. There were others so much more deserving. Others like him, Bruck Chun.

Obi-Wan stirred. Qui-Gon's hand slid out of his and patted his leg, though the master didn't open his eyes or seem to wake. Bruck stood very still.

What was he supposed to make of this? From the moment he'd arrived, Obi-Wan had been gently deflecting or ignoring his jabs and taunts. He'd developed a layer of serenity that Bruck suddenly found himself craving. He'd been a padawan almost as long as Kenobi. Why didn't he feel that way? Why couldn't he face every situation with equanimity?

Qui-Gon opened his eyes. Bruck wanted to flinch from the power he saw banked in them. It almost glowed in the dim light.

"Padawan Chun." He didn't sit or move. Just looked at him. Bruck felt as though his soul was being examined.

"I wanted to see - if you needed anything. If Obi-Wan needed anything," he amended quickly.

"Some hot tea would be welcome," Qui-Gon spoke in that same calm, firm tone. Bruck wondered if he always spoke like that. It was another trait Obi-Wan seemed to have picked up. He kept his voice even and calm almost all the time Bruck was with him.

Maybe it was Qui-Gon. Maybe his master had taught him to hide his insecurity. Maybe Obi-Wan would still be Oafy-Wan if he didn't have Qui-Gon to lean on.

Even as he thought it Bruck dismissed the thought as unworthy. Obi-Wan had handled the crisis on the mountain without his master and his demeanor hadn't been different at all.

"I'll see if I can find you some," he told the recovering master. He left before Qui-Gon could say more.

Bruck wandered toward the mess tents. They were closed down for the night, the cooks early to bed before another long day that would start just as early as this one had. Bruck had never ventured out after his master went to bed before. She had made it clear that she wanted to know where he was at all times. It was as though she didn't trust him. He was a senior padawan and she'd never let him take the reins of a mission, no matter how mundane. She seldom discussed things with him, just told him what to do and where to be.

He didn't think he was learning much from that, though he tried. At the mudslide, he would have tried to dig Qui-Gon out and probably wound up killing him. Because he wouldn't have known what to do. Wouldn't have thought to cut down a tree with his 'saber. Hadn't thought you could cut a tree with a 'saber.

And Obi-Wan silently feeding him energy so he could make it up the mountain--Bruck wasn't sure he'd have been able to resist crowing about something like that.

The more he thought about it, the more he envied Obi-Wan.

He crept into the darkened tent and hunted quietly for tea makings. There were several fires burning around the camp, so he took a clay pot and went to heat the water over one of them. It took a few minutes. He hoped Qui-Gon wasn't timing him, or didn't give up and send Obi-Wan after him.

Sometimes he felt lost. As though he didn't know what he was doing, or why he was doing it. Up until now he'd thought all of his friends felt that way. That they just hid it, the way he did. It could be that Kenobi was an exception, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced Bruck became that wasn't so.

He shouldn't feel this way. His master shouldn't make him feel like an afterthought to be tolerated. Someone to do the chores and keep the place tidy. She made sure he did his lessons and scolded him if he fell behind. She casually discussed her work with him, but she never tried to involve him in it. It seemed that Obi-Wan was a real partner to Qui-Gon. He made decisions without his master's approval and acted on his own when his master wasn't available. He didn't seem to spend half his time worrying what Qui-Gon would think of his choices.

The water was boiling. He strained rusty-red leaves through a piece of cloth and let it steep while he picked up the cup and carried it to the hospital tents. They were small, but many of them were private.

He paused outside to gather his thoughts. 

Perhaps Obi-Wan's master was someone he could talk to. It was an accepted practice, to seek another master's opinion when a padawan had a difficulty his or her or herm's own master couldn't or wouldn't help them solve. He'd even heard of padawans who wanted help with their master, as he thought maybe he did.

Most of the time the assisting master sent the padawan back, though. It was a big gamble. 

Obi-Wan was more powerful than Bruck would have ever suspected. He had a place at his master's side that didn't seem to have anything to do with them being lovers. Bruck wanted to have that kind of place beside his master.

As he stood and thought about things, he noticed that it was very quiet. Usually the camp echoed with the cries of children and the rumblings of too many sentients in one space. But this was the darkest hour of the night and everything was still. Resting.

He heard a low moan from inside the tent and took a startled step backwards.

What -?

"Qui." A deep moan, filled with such joy that Bruck's heart leapt in sympathy.

"Yes, my Obi?" Laughter, deep and soft, and love. Enormous love that seemed to lift the words and float them through the air.

"Just checking." Now Obi was laughing too. Bruck realized he was eavesdropping. Listening in to something that was probably very private. Very special.

He took another step back and turned to leave, the cup forgotten in his hand.

"You can come in, Padawan Chun." Master Jinn's voice startled him so badly that he slopped boiled tea over his hand. Bruck yelped and switched hands, bringing the scalded spot to his lips, and went inside hesitantly.

Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor beside the platform. He had one hand in his lap and the other on Qui-Gon's thigh. His master had a hand in Obi-Wan's hair, stroking it, but he stopped as soon as Bruck came in.

Qui-Gon sat. It was clear to Bruck that the movement pained him, but he sat, and he reached for the cup that was threatening to spill from Bruck's fingers.

"Thank you, Padawan. This is exactly what I needed."

"You must have gone to some trouble to find that, Bruck," Obi-Wan said, standing and returning to his position in the chair. "Thank you. He can be a bear if he doesn't have his tea."

"He's about the right size for a bear," Bruck offered hesitantly. The past day had tested his beliefs about many things. One of them was the legendary Qui-Gon Jinn. Perhaps he wasn't as harsh and strict as Bruck had assumed. It could be that Obi-Wan worked as hard as he did because he liked it.

Could Qui-Gon Jinn have a sense of humor?

"I'd need a bit more hair - but my Padawan will attest to the fact that I do have claws." The words were said softly, with a hint of amusement, but the blue eyes set in the aging face looked at Bruck as if they were testing him.

"And he uses them frequently," Obi-Wan chuckled dryly. It was a sound Bruck had never heard from him. Self-assured. Confident.

Secure. He'd never been that as an Initiate.

Qui-Gon sipped his tea and they both looked at Bruck expectantly.

"I should be getting back," he said at last. It wasn't that his nerve failed him, but he didn't know what he was trying to do. What did he want to do? Talk to Qui-Gon? Tell Obi-Wan how he felt?

It would be dangerous, to expose himself to ridicule that way. A chance for Obi-Wan to repay all the torments of childhood Bruck had inflicted upon him. He didn't really believe Obi-Wan would do that, now, but it seemed too great a chance to take.

"Your master keeps pretty close tabs on you, huh?" Obi-Wan sounded sympathetic. He exchanged a glance with his master that Bruck couldn't read.

Bruck nodded. 

"I've been scheduling my own time for the last four years," Obi-Wan told him. He tried to make it seem casual, but Bruck still heard it as an accusation. "Since the date of my majority."

Bruck had reached the age of 18 about the same time Obi-Wan had, with only a few months' difference. 

"She worries about my temper." He made an excuse because he was embarrassed. He never spent a lot time around other padawans, but he'd talked to enough to know his situation wasn't normal.

Qui-Gon sat higher in the bed and set his cup down. It seemed he had finished all of the tea. Bruck felt, oddly, that he had accomplished something by bringing it to him.

"I'm on the Senior Division Review Board. I have seen no reports concerning any problems with you." It was almost a question.

"I haven't been in trouble!" Bruck said quickly. "She just wants it to stay that way." Obi-Wan opened his mouth but a sharp look from Qui-Gon made him close it with a snap.

Watching, Bruck almost felt better about what he was doing. It was clear that Obi-Wan was still directly under his master's will, as he should be, despite the autonomy Qui-Gon allowed him.

An autonomy Bruck was beginning to envy.

"You should return to your master before she becomes angry with you," Qui-Gon told him. "Though I must rest tomorrow, the two of you still have work to do, and I'm afraid you'll have to pick up my slack as well."

"It's not slack, Master," Obi-Wan scolded. "You're injured, you're supposed to take it easy."

"Not if it leaves more work for others."

It sounded like an old argument to Bruck and he let himself smile. By the Force, they did sound like an old married couple. He certainly envied them that. Not that he'd ever desired a physical relationship with his master - the thought alone made him vaguely nauseous - but these two did seem to belong together. 

The Force had definitely made its wishes known in this case. "I'll see you in the morning, Kenobi," he said, giving Qui-Gon a respectful bow. "We can finish with the children."

"Then we'll see about starting on the supply organization."

"That's one of my master's duties." Bruck was startled. Obi-Wan thought they were up to that?

He'd seen his master do it; a job this size would be no picnic.

"She may be otherwise occupied," Qui-Gon said.

The words troubled Bruck. He would have protested, or questioned, but then he looked at Qui-Gon's face.

Qui-Gon Jinn was angry.

It was written in the furrow of his brow and the set of his shoulders. The thin line of his mouth.

Taking it in, Bruck bowed again and left without another word.

What had he done? He'd been as polite as he knew how. He'd opened up a bit and tried to convey the reality of his situation to the other master. Perhaps he should have approached and requested assistance formally? Jinn had a reputation as a maverick, but maybe he preferred the rituals and ceremony that so crowded Jedi interactions. There was a ritual to formally request the help of another master, but Bruck wasn't even sure he remembered it. It required prostration, that much came to mind, and he could do that if he had to...

He was walking faster as his mind churned, becoming more and more convinced that he'd made a terrible mistake. How would he explain this to his master? What if Jinn spoke to her tomorrow?

Would she put him aside? Send him to the Agri-Corps? He was a senior padawan, she couldn't just do that! She would have to justify it to the Council. But she was a master, and he was her second padawan, what if they agreed with her methods...?

"Bruck! Bruck Chun!" A strong hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. Bruck went with the movement, his hand landing on the hilt of his 'saber, but he didn't draw it. He recognized the voice and then the face of the man that had stopped him.

"You were about a trillion light-years away," Obi-Wan Kenobi said calmly, putting his free hand on Bruck's other shoulder and steadying him. Bruck stepped away, out of the grasp, putting distance between him.

His thoughts must have shown on his face. Obi-Wan frowned, and then reached for him again, more insistently this time.

"Shards, he was right!" Bruck was shocked when Obi-Wan pulled him into a loose embrace. "You're out here blaming yourself, thinking you screwed up and that you're in deep trouble." He gave Bruck a rough shake and then pushed him away again. "Listen to me. You haven't done anything wrong. How you've managed to do as well as you have without guidance, I don't know, but you alone can take credit for that. There's so much your master should have done for you that she hasn't."

"She's a good master," Bruck snapped, stung by the implication that he was somehow lacking, though he knew it to be true. Working with Obi-Wan he felt it acutely. "She cares about me."

"Not enough to give you any room," Obi-Wan answered. "Just, listen, okay? She's not in trouble either. I've seen Qui do this before. He's a ranking master. It's his right to speak to any master below him about their padawan. If he says he wants to talk to them, they have to listen. He wants what's best for both of you. You're way behind where you should be and it's his job to find out why."

"Because I'm not good enough!" Bruck stunned himself by shouting. "I was never good enough! That's why I hated you so much!" He reached out with both arms and shoved Obi-Wan, hard.

Obi-Wan went with the movement and didn't fall. He just stared at Bruck open-mouthed, looking as stunned by what Bruck had said as Bruck was.

"You hated me?" He didn't seem to believe it. "You were cruel to me, but you were like that to almost everyone."

"You were so damned good at everything, Kenobi. From the first day I met you, when we were assigned to the first 'saber class together, I knew you were better than me. I wanted to be a Jedi so bad. I figured if I could make you look bad then I'd have a better shot."

"You almost cost me the chance to be a padawan." Obi-Wan was still staring.

"It's what I wanted." Bruck lowered his head, face flaming with shame.

He couldn't look up. He thought that Obi-Wan would hit him, or leave him standing there while he went to report this to Qui-Gon.

The gentle pat on his back was completely unexpected.

"That was a long time ago," Obi-Wan said, matter-of-factly. "You must have been pretty scared."

"I'm always scared," Bruck mumbled. When the words left his mouth he wished he could snatch them back. Why had he told him that?

"That's the problem," Obi-Wan told him. The hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed. "I was scared, too. Right up until the day Qui-Gon accepted me. Right then he told me I didn't have anything to be afraid of, and I believed him. He told me that I wouldn't be his padawan unless I was good enough. Just like you wouldn't have made it this far unless you were good enough. Your master should have taken care of these doubts years ago."

"How?"

"There are meditation techniques. Conversations you should have had. Qui will talk to her about them tomorrow. We'll get this sorted out, and you'll feel better. You'll see what I see."

"What do you see?" Bruck turned under the hand and stared into Obi-Wan's eyes. They were grey-green, soft with worry. "What can you see?"

Obi-Wan gripped both of his shoulders again.

"I see a Jedi."

"I'm not a Jedi." 

"You will be." Obi-Wan smiled. "I have a feel for these things, Bruck. Trust me. You will be a Jedi."

Bruck raised his eyebrows when Obi-Wan said that, but didn't question. He was tired, and it was late. Master Jef-ress would be upset at him for staying out so long.

"I've got to go."

"Morning will be here way too soon." Obi-Wan agreed. He let Bruck go and offered a hand.

When Bruck reached for it, Obi-Wan turned it into a forearm grip; the handshake of brothers.

Bruck returned the grip and felt some weight lifting from him.  
"I'll meet you at the mess hall?" he suggested.

"My master likes me to break fast with him. But we can eat at noon together."

"Your master." Bruck smiled, and felt a bit like his old self. So he smirked. "Qui, huh?"

Obi-Wan colored faintly and Bruck smiled widely.

"Sometimes I forget," he muttered, the blush growing hotter.

"I won't tell anyone." Bruck assured him. "Think he'd mind if I called him that?"

He ducked when Obi-Wan swung at him playfully, and they parted in better spirits.

Bruck still felt drained, but there was a feeling of peace as well. Whatever happened, things wouldn't stay the way they were. Any change had to be for the good, given the circumstances.

He went to the tent he and his master had been assigned to. She was already asleep, so there was no confrontation. If he woke before her and slipped out he could avoid it even longer. Long enough for master Jinn to speak to her. He hoped.

 

Obi-Wan trudged wearily back across the camp. It seemed to have doubled in size during the last few minutes. He was exhausted. The mission, the rescue, worrying about Qui-Gon, and now dealing with Bruck's problems. Granted, they weren't of his making, but they still put a drain on an already-worn padawan's energy. His time since the rescue had been split evenly between his assigned duties in the camp and watching over Qui-Gon, with little spared for sleep. If the choice was between his master and sleep, Qui-Gon would win every time. Qui-Gon had spent two days in the bacta tank and then two more days resting, giving his body a chance to heal. He was going to be fine, he just needed another week or so to be completely recovered.

"There you are." 

He looked up and saw his master a few feet away. Qui-Gon was walking slowly, stepping carefully so as not to jar mending ribs. Though he stood tall Obi-Wan could hear the slight hitch in his breath.

"You're supposed to be in bed!" he scolded as quietly as he could, hurrying over and getting a shoulder under Qui-Gon's good arm.

"I missed you." 

The soft words sent a thrill through Obi-Wan. 

"We have the privacy of the hospital tent for one more night," Qui-Gon continued. He was returning to light duty the next day, Obi-Wan knew. There was too much to be done for Qui-Gon to be happy resting while others worked. "I thought, perhaps, that we could take advantage of it." 

Heat roared through Obi-Wan and he almost staggered. "Don't tease me like that, please."

"I am most definitely not teasing," Qui-Gon chuckled. He ran his hand down Obi-Wan's back and caressed his butt. "I have missed your touch more than you might imagine. These days of enforced celibacy are as hard for me as they are for you."

"I'm not sure I believe you," Obi-Wan half-mumbled. Early in the relationship Qui-Gon had teased him gently about his sexual appetite. He'd tried to explain, and he knew Qui-Gon understood, that it wasn't just the sex he craved. It was the closeness, the security, the peace being one with his master gave him. But still Qui-Gon teased him occasionally.

Qui-Gon stopped just inside of the small tent and turned, pulling Obi-Wan into his arms. He smelled musky and dark, his body so large and hard against Obi-Wan's.

"Never doubt that I want you as much as you want me," he whispered. Then he lowered his head and kissed Obi-Wan with a deep hunger that made them both moan softly.

Obi-Wan tilted his head back and let Qui-Gon control the kiss. His master's tongue slipped over his own, tasting him, seeking all the secret places inside him. His knees went weak, like a silly heroine in a tri-vid broadcast, and he couldn't keep his eyes open.

When Qui-Gon released him at last, Obi-Wan was sagging against him, using his master's strength to stay upright.

"Promise me." The voice was rich and deep and low. It rolled through Obi-Wan like a summer storm.

"Yes." He swallowed. They had taken no vows. It wasn't allowed until he passed the last level of classes. But suddenly this night felt special. It felt sacred.

Perhaps because he had come close to losing Qui-Gon once again. It happened once in a while, one or the other of them in mortal danger. 

The aftermath had never felt like this before.

"I promise."

"Love of my life," Qui-Gon murmured, leaning down for another kiss.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. His thought processes were rapidly shorting out. Qui-Gon ducked into the low tent, pulling Obi-Wan after him, and then he gently pushed him down on the bed and stretched out beside him.

"Let me," Obi-Wan told him when Qui-Gon started to undress, untying the sash over his tunics.

With an indulgent smile, Qui-Gon lay back and spread his arms wide.

"Do as you like."

Obi-Wan couldn't hold back an evil chuckle. He straddled Qui-Gon and cocked his head to give him a smirk.

"Are you certain that's the offer you want to make?"

"Very." Qui-Gon relaxed into the thin pillows and stretched his neck. The bones cracked and he sighed. "I am at your mercy."

"Qui-Gon..." Obi-Wan felt a lump in his throat and his master looked up and met his eyes. The dark blues ones were alight with desire and softened by love.

"Yes?" The word was an offering. A blessing. Benediction.

"I love you." There was just no other way to say it.

Qui-Gon smiled and ran his hands down his own chest, parting the layers.

"Show me."

It was almost too much for Obi-Wan. Their love life was varied and generally an equal partnership. Qui-Gon had never offered himself in this way before. Tonight he'd made it clear that Obi-Wan was to do whatever he wanted and the younger man was overwhelmed by the possibilities.

There were so many things he wanted to do. It had been far too long since he'd had the luxury of time. He would pay for it tomorrow, but this night would be dedicated to reacquainting himself with every inch of this beloved – large - body, and the soul within it.

He started slowly. With his eyes on Qui-Gon's holding that compelling gaze, he leaned over and ran his tongue along the curve of jaw. The beard was bristly. He loved that sensation. Qui-Gon sighed and closed his eyes.

Obi-Wan spent a prodigious amount of time tasting Qui-Gon's skin. As he went lower, he worked off each piece of clothing, until only the wrapped loincloth was left. At that point he sat back to take inventory of his lover's responses.

Qui-Gon was breathing heavily, his arms by his sides, chest gleaming with a light coat of sweat. It was cool in the tent. Obi-Wan didn't want him to catch a chill.

"Let's get under the blankets," he said, as an instruction, not a suggestion. He was gratified when Qui-Gon moved without comment, sliding off the bed and then back in as Obi-Wan held them up and tucked him in.

"Aren't you joining me?" Qui-Gon sounded like he was amused, but there was no smile on his face. Only love and hunger and want.

"As soon as I tidy this up." Obi-Wan felt slightly silly, but he figured he was going to be doing a mad scramble in the morning. Best to have things laid out neatly.

He undressed without fanfare, folding and hanging his robes and tunics and leggings and Qui-Gon's. When he saw how closely his master was watching him he paused, nude, and then posed a little. Qui-Gon looked him over hungrily and Obi-Wan felt a blush spread from his face downward to his nipples, which tightened under his lover's scrutiny. But he withstood it, and let Qui-Gon look his fill. When it seemed he'd had enough, Obi-Wan turned to dig a small pot of sweet oil out of Qui-Gon's pack. They always carried it. It had many uses, but this was by far his favorite.

Qui-Gon shifted the blankets, disturbing the neatness Obi-Wan had imposed on them, and his padawan slid into the bed beside him.

They came together with restrained violence. There was too much want between them now to linger.

Their kisses were fierce, then soft, then hungry again. Obi-Wan couldn't catch his breath; he was panting. His body strained for completion against Qui-Gon's, their erections matched in tight quarters between them.

Qui-Gon spread his legs wide. Obi-Wan accepted the offer without thought, taking one of the hard, flat pillows and sliding it under his master's hips. The thought of making love to Qui-Gon always made him shiver, and this was no different. He stroked Qui-Gon's cock, pressing himself between his master's thighs. His other hand dipped into the rocking pot of oil and then slipped between the muscled curves of Qui-Gon's ass, seeking entry.

One finger, deep and crooked to make Qui-Gon gasp and moan, bucking hard enough in Obi-Wan's arms to make him hold tighter.

"Please," Qui-Gon gasped.

"One more." He wouldn't hurt him. He knew he wouldn't hurt him, but he couldn't bring himself to take any chances. His second finger, dripping with oil, sank deep into the hot passage and Qui-Gon stiffened, his hands grabbing the arm across his chest and holding it tightly enough to leave bruises. He threw his head back and arched into Obi-Wan. His hair got in Obi-Wan's face, it tickled his mouth and he had to breathe through it. He loved it.

"Now?" Qui-Gon moaned the word, his hips beginning to move in an undeniable rhythm.

"Now." Obi-Wan didn't have many more words in him. He slipped his fingers out and dipped once more, then spread the oil thickly over himself. Then he used that hand to position himself, then pressed forward. He wanted to be gentle, to make it good, but there was always resistance. They didn't have many opportunities to devote this much time to lovemaking, so this wasn't something either of them had done often. Tonight he needed it, and he could feel Qui-Gon's need as well.

For that deep sense of connection.

It took more force than Obi-Wan was happy with. He could tell from the way Qui-Gon hissed that it was hurting him. Obi-Wan didn't stop. Experience had taught him that the sooner he got to the good part, the sooner it would stop hurting, and it would be well worth the initial pain.

Finally he was inside. His body was as close to Qui-Gon's as he was liable to get in this lifetime.

He wrapped both arms around his lover and held onto him as hard as he could. Qui-Gon panted and arched up into him.

Obi-Wan waited until the muscles that squeezed him relaxed slightly, and then he pulled out all the way and pushed back in. Qui-Gon growled a deep moan and matched the movement. They rocked together, in perfect sync. With his face in Qui-Gon's neck, Obi-Wan couldn't see anything but Qui-Gon's hair in his face. He couldn't hear anything but his own labored breathing and Qui-Gon's deep moans. He couldn't smell anything but the scent they made together, musk and sweat, sex and love. It filled the tent and he sucked it in, great lungsful of it.

Qui-Gon's moans began to sound like words. One word. 

"Obi, Obi, Obi, Obi--"

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan gasped. He felt the power coil low in his belly. It wouldn't be long now. "Qui-Gon Jinn." It took almost superhuman effort, but he made himself go slower and grasped Qui-Gon's erection more tightly. It pulsed in his hand, hot and heavy, the skin stretched thinly over it. It felt alive and needy. Obi-Wan squeezed it and circled it with thumb and fingers, stroking it.

Qui-Gon made a noise that could have come from a Tatooine Sandtiger , and then he was bucking against Obi-Wan, his greater strength and size practically lifting the smaller man from the bed.

Obi-Wan hung on. He was rewarded with a gush of thick, hot wetness over his stroking hand.

The scent of semen was strong enough to choke him and he sucked it up too. Qui-Gon covered Obi-Wan's hand with his own and helped him with the last few strokes, making them gentler, drawing out the last lingering shudders.

"Force, " he gasped. "You're good to me."

Unable to form words, Obi-Wan grunted. Now that he had felt Qui-Gon's completion, he was ready for his own. He sped up his rhythm and pounded into Qui-Gon's willing body, fucking him deep and hard. Obi-Wan lost what little control he'd had and his rhythm became jerky and wild.

Then he was coming deep inside Qui-Gon, the muscular passage massaging him, drawing his seed from him. Making it a part of Qui-Gon.

They lay panting in the aftermath, stunned by the power of their joining.

After some time Qui-Gon turned them to their sides, separating them, and gathered Obi-Wan into his arms.

They were going to be stuck together in the morning, and Obi-Wan didn't care. He was pretty sure Qui-Gon didn't either.

The tent was still filled with the scent, almost a haze. It was warmer than it had been, but they stayed beneath the covers, cuddling exhaustedly. The day and the mission were catching up with them. Obi-Wan glanced up a bit later and saw that Qui-Gon's eyes had drooped closed.

He was almost asleep.

"I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn. My Master."

Qui-Gon stirred, his hands stroking Obi-Wan briefly.

"And I you, my Padawan." He sucked in a deep breath and then lay still, his breathing deep and even.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and listened to it. How many nights had that sound lulled him to sleep?

More than he could count. Before they became lovers and after. As long as he'd been a padawan, he'd let his master's breathing ease his fears in the dark.

It saddened him deeply that Bruck had not experienced this feeling of security. That he should still doubt his place by his master's side was a tragedy.

But Qui-Gon would find a way to fix it. Bruck would someday know the joy of his place. Perhaps not the depth of joy Obi-Wan felt here and now. But the joy of a dream fulfilled. Qui-Gon had fulfilled two dreams for Obi-Wan, he thought drowsily as his eyes closed. Qui-Gon would make him a Jedi worthy of the name. And he would love Obi-Wan with every fiber of his being, during this life and the next.

Soft, rumbling snores issued from the chest beneath his cheek, and Obi-Wan smiled sleepily. He might try to turn Qui-Gon over later, if they became louder, but for now he was content to listen to that as well.

Content to be exactly where he was, in all ways. In all things.


End file.
